Heartbeat

Dear (You),

Traffic was awful. The rain only increased as daylight fled, turning Evergreen into what can only be described as a parking lot. The windshield wipers wailed endlessly and hardly made a dent in the rivers streaming in front of me. You were right - I should have replaced them before it got this wet. The left headlight is out. It would’ve been wise to fix that too.

The neighborhoods seemed to go on forever, and I would be lying to say I didn’t get lost once or twice. My excuse is that I haven’t been in North Everett in years. But you, my dear, will always be the exception. I persevered through those dim houses and finally found Colby, following it uphill until finally reaching the hospital. The parking garage was too dark and surprisingly full, forcing me to crawl two levels with one headlight and wipers that now skipped noisily across the glass.

I don’t know if I parked straight. I didn’t care at the time and still don’t. The downpour was no kinder to me now than it had been in traffic. By the time I had crossed the street and found a sign indicating the correct building, my hair was plastered hideously against my skull and over my eyes. Stepping into the lobby, I shook my head briskly and dripped over to the receptionist. She nodded in response to my breathless inquiry.

The elevator was busy; I ran to the stairs and immediately slipped on the first step. Grabbing the banister, I hurried up the flight and around the corner to even more steps. The lights in the second story hallway were dim and had an eerie green hue. I gave my head another good shake and strode down with as much confidence as I could muster. Ten paces ahead, a nurse rushed from a room to the one directly across the hall. I quickened my pace and checked the number plaque of the room she had entered. It was my stop.

The nob felt cold and the door was heavy. Even before the room met my eyes, a rhythmic tone entered my ears. It beeped loud and clear, even above shouted demands and technical terms for metal utensils. I pushed the door further and stepped forward with the beat of the machine. I cried out when I saw you – head turned limply to the side; sweet lips engulfed in a clear plastic cage; hair in disarray. The crimson dress I had given you was soaked in a liquid slightly darker than the cloth it stained.

The beeping tone faltered. I stopped dead in my tracks. The man nearest your wound seemed electrocuted by the next tone. He plucked a utensil from a beckoning hand to his right and turned quickly back.

The beep took longer to arrive this time. I tried to call out but nearly vomited out of panic.

The tone arose again, this time at a higher pitch...and didn’t stop. It went on and on and on and rang interminably throughout the room and deep inside my head. They put horrid paddles on your poor chest and lifted you violently from the bed. Once, twice, now three times.

The piercing noise remained. It was at that moment the doctor turned from your motionless form and looked me dead in the eyes. I understood.

My heart beats for the both of us now.

Yours eternally,
                (Me)